


Merlin's Fall

by dk323



Series: Merlin's Fall [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Merlin is a god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young orphaned Arthur has found a close friend in Merlin, the son of the powerful god of magic, and a family that has adopted him. But as Arthur grows up in the world of the gods and goddesses, the reality of the claiming cannot be ignored. When the unimaginable happens, Arthur’s world comes crashing down around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlin's Fall

Hate. That’s what Arthur felt toward the god of death’s son, Muirden. But he knew it wasn’t wise to try to fight him, well, again that is. Muirden was a god, and Arthur was only human. He couldn’t match the physical strength and power that Muirden had in a fight. Even with the training and exercise he underwent, Arthur had to concede it wasn’t good enough except for lasting longer in a fight he’d undoubtedly lose. 

Maybe in the world of humans, the world of his birth, he would be solid even impressive competition as he was seventeen now, and reaching the peak of his strength. But in the world of the gods and goddesses – his home for the past ten years – Arthur was hopelessly outmatched. 

Unfortunately Arthur’s fierce determination to punch Muirden in the face, and maybe a little more than that, wasn’t enough to defeat him in a fight. 

In a recent vicious fight, Arthur would have been beaten bloody with potentially days of recovery. But fortunately, Merlin’s Aunt Ceridwen had stopped the fight in time. Arthur had grit his teeth, steeled himself not to be bothered by the laughter from Muirden and his band of sycophants as Ceridwen had led Arthur away. 

While he was somewhat anxious to be wandering the forest by himself, Arthur tried to look and feel brave all the same. It would be safest, yes, to be with Merlin as humans tended to be targets from more unpleasant gods like Muirden. With Merlin, the son of the god of magic and heir to that title and position, beside him Arthur wouldn’t have to worry as much.

Muirden would be risking a fight with Merlin if he jumped Arthur in Merlin’s presence. And Muirden, Arthur had to admit, was smart enough to pick his battles. A fight between gods was messy. Even though gods and goddesses were immortal, they could still feel pain and bleed; their super-strength and abilities making the hurt even more painful. Arthur could attest to that. They still had to recover -- even so far as coming back to life from death, a tedious event most immortals preferred to avoid as it wasn't a welcome experience. Or so Arthur had heard. So battles between immortal beings were rarer. But when they did happen, Arthur thought they were rather epic and entertaining to watch – well, as long as someone Arthur cared for wasn’t involved such as Merlin. 

He wondered if Muirden followed him – appearing to wait for the opportune moment to attack him. Because there was Muirden, alone, sitting in the grass a few feet away from Arthur in a small clearing. Arthur was relieved that Adonis was nearby with his three young daughters, triplets. The little girls were amusing themselves making headpieces with picked flowers. 

Adonis held the reputation of being a laidback god. He was the ageless god of beauty and desire – his physical appearance lending weight to that title and position. The god of beauty and desire had an athletic body and golden – Arthur was sure it matched the colour of a gold bar perfectly -- hair and pale blue eyes. 

Despite Arthur only being human, Adonis was a friend and ally even to him. Arthur also knew that Merlin counted Adonis as a good friend as well. In this situation now, with Adonis spending time with his daughters, the god wouldn’t stand for a fight to break out in the presence of his young children. So Arthur was safe this time at least from Muirden. Though he was not a fighting god such as the god of war, Adonis could still prove to be formidable competition if he was pushed to battle. 

“Hello Adonis,” Arthur greeted him with a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he still watched Muirden. 

Muirden was eyeing him with his one dark eye, an eyepatch covering where his right one had been.

Fortunately, Muirden was silent and returned to reading a thick tome.

“Hi Arthur.” Adonis acknowledged him.

“Daddy, daddy…look,” one of Adonis’ daughter beckoned him. She showed him the headpiece she made. “It’s for you.”

Adonis smiled down at her and picked her up in his arms. She placed the circlet of flowers on his head. 

“Nice,” Arthur remarked. 

“You think so? See how talented you are, Elsie,” he said to his daughter.

Else kissed him on the nose with a giggle. He set her down on the ground with an affectionate pat on the head. She went off to continue playing with her sisters within viewing distance.

Muirden snorted. 

Adonis turned to him, a sharp look in his eyes. So as not to draw attention to himself, Arthur kept quiet. Memories of his fight three weeks ago with Muirden flashed across his mind. He didn’t see himself as foolhardy enough to start up a fight with Muirden again. Even though if any god deserved to be pummeled, it was Muirden. 

“What is your problem?” Adonis asked him, irritated.

Muirden shrugged, closing the book in his hands. “It’s nothing. Just the stench of human. It’s distracting.” He said, his comment undeniably directed at Arthur.

“Well then maybe you should leave,” Adonis shot back at Muirden.

“I’m not the human here. I think Arthur should go, and maybe finally learn not to wander about by himself. He’s just asking for trouble.”

Adonis glared at him, but Merlin came by before Adonis could sound a firm retort.

“Hello, Adonis.” Merlin acknowledged him with a friendly smile. 

“Hey Merlin. It looks like it’s about lunchtime. I should get going with my girls. See you two later,” he said to Arthur and Merlin. “And you,” Adonis acknowledged Muirden. “I hope you can stop being such a pain in the arse, but it’s a tall order, I suspect.”

And then Adonis left with his daughters in tow. 

“Come on, Arthur. That meeting is soon and I need you there with me,” Merlin told him. 

Muirden smirked. He stood up, tucking his book under his arm. “Really. What’s the point of your human being there? It’s not like he’s smart or anything. Humans are below us. Your whole family should understand that, but it seems they are --”

“Don’t you dare insult my family or Arthur,” Merlin said coolly.

The fiery phoenixes of his golden circlet crackled like fire as the birds spread their wings.

Merlin had been wearing the circlet since his sixteenth birthday two years ago. As the phoenix was Merlin’s creature symbol, the headpiece had four golden phoenixes placed on top of it: two phoenixes at the front and back and two phoenixes at the left and right. The phoenixes were composed of golden fire. The golden circlet signified his secured position as his Father’s heir. 

Gods and goddesses, Arthur had learned in the long ten years he’d lived here, were passionate about showing symbols of their power and authority. As the god of death’s son, Muirden held a high position, a black crown of a rare precious stone signifying that. Arthur was sure with his strong magical abilities, Merlin could defeat Muirden easily if they were to ever battle. Gwydion, Merlin’s sixteen-year old cousin by way of their fathers, had bested Muirden in a fight after all. It ran in the family.

“Just go, Muirden,” Merlin told him wearily before Muirden could speak again. “Don’t waste your time showcasing your ignorance.”

Arthur moved forward to attack, working on impulse and wanting to show Muirden that he was a force to be reckoned with no matter if he was human.

Yet Merlin put his arm out in front of him, stopping Arthur. “No, we need to go. There’s no need to get into a fight now.”

“But--” Arthur started.

Merlin grabbed his elbow like he was a petulant child even if Merlin was only a year older than him – about to celebrate his eighteenth birthday in fact. Arthur was annoyed by the treatment as Merlin dragged him in the opposite direction, away from Muirden.

“Merlin, seriously,” Arthur spoke up, aghast. “I don’t want Muirden thinking I’m weak.”

“He could’ve have killed you, damnit, in that fight. I thought you’d learned to lie low for now,” Merlin admonished him.

Arthur swore under his breath. Muirden always gave him that itch to fight, to rip that smirk off his face. His strategy to avoid interaction with him fell apart every time Muirden insulted him. 

Then Muirden shouted at them. “Hey Merlin, what’s up with you not claiming Arthur yet? Gwydion claimed that freak of nature he calls a friend. And that was last year when they were fifteen? And you two are older than that, and still, the claiming hasn’t happened. I bet Arthur isn’t good enough. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Turning back around, Merlin replied coldly, “It’s none of your business.”

Arthur couldn’t help but defend his only human friend. “And don’t you dare call Bran a freak. You bastard.”

Muirden only looked amused.

“And remember why you lost your eye, Muirden. Gwydion would all too gladly take out the other one,” Merlin warned him.

Muirden’s face turned stoic, and he shrugged off the threat, walking away. 

Arthur knew why Muirden had lost his eye. The god had been foolhardy himself last year. Muirden had been idiotic enough to sexually assault Bran a few weeks after Gwydion had claimed him. The claiming should have protected Bran from other gods taking advantage of him, but Muirden had foolishly overstepped his bounds and did it anyway. 

If there was anyone Gwydion was fiercely protective of, it was Bran. They had been in each other’s company since Gwydion’s goddess mother, Athena, had adopted Bran as a newborn after Bran’s birth mother had died in childbirth. So the pair had grown up together and was especially close. 

While Arthur felt that he and Merlin had a close bond, the fact was he had only known Merlin since he was seven – it had been a long ten years, yes, but it didn’t quite compare to Bran and Gwydion knowing each other from the cradle. 

So Gwydion had fought Muirden in revenge, removing one eye in the process. Muirden was punished by the High Council so he couldn’t get his eye back, and whenever Bran was nearby, Muirden had to leave the area so that he wasn’t in the same vicinity as Bran. A restraining order, so to speak.

What Muirden had done to Bran was just another reason – though a very significant one – for Arthur wanting to fight the god and make him feel great pain.

“Merlin, about the claiming…” Arthur ventured tentatively as he walked beside him. Fortunately Merlin had released his elbow by then as Arthur chose to not to go after Muirden. 

“We’re not discussing it.”

“But Muirden’s right, however much I hate saying that, but you should’ve claimed me by now,” Arthur told him, his voice taking on an earnest tone. 

The minimum age for the claiming to occur was the age of fourteen, and the act was best done before the age of twenty-one. So he still had some time for Merlin to come around, but Arthur felt anxious to have the claiming taken care of and not wonder anymore about when it would happen. 

“This is for my protection, Merlin. If Gwydion and Bran got it done, then we should follow them,” Arthur said. 

Merlin frowned at him. “Arthur, do you know how wrong it is that you want to be claimed? You know the price you must pay. I want to keep you protected too from gods like Muirden, but the cost, Arthur…are you sure you want that for yourself?”

“Merlin, there’s no other person I’d want to be with but you. Gwydion and Bran are doing just fine after all. And I know you, Merlin, I know you won’t abuse the power. What else do I need to say to persuade you?” Arthur asked him, his tone taking on a desperate edge.

Merlin bit his lip, frowning. “My mother is coming to my eighteenth birthday celebration,” he said, smoothly changing the subject much to Arthur’s frustration.

Merlin’s mother was the Dryad Queen of the dryads within Mystic’s Wood. Since Mystic’s Wood was located far away in the human realm, his mother only visited her son a few times a year. His birthday was one such occasion. Although one dryad, a daughter of a trusted confidante of his mother’s, stayed in the world of the gods and goddesses. Her name was Mary and she was Merlin’s closest female friend. Arthur saw her as a friend too.

“Right, of course she is,” Arthur said with a nod. “Look, Merlin. I know you’re changing the subject. Don’t think I’ll let this stand.”

Merlin looked somewhat conciliatory. Arthur was sure most other gods would have just told him that he was just human and therefore, he should shut his mouth and not argue the point.

“All right. I’m sorry, Arthur. I promise we’ll discuss it after my birthday celebration. I promise I’ll be open to getting the claiming done. If only to insure your protection,” Merlin told him.

“Thank you.” Arthur said sincerely and he meant it.

Merlin clapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him. “Come on then.”

~ * ~

Merlin’s cousin Gwydion was a talented artist. A fact no one could challenge after seeing his artwork. As expected, Gwydion had done a painting of Merlin with his mother and father the day Merlin’s mother had arrived in anticipation of the birthday celebration.

The painting was unveiled at the celebration. And the painting had looked amazing, and Arthur was impressed that Gwydion had finished it in less than two days. Then again, he was a god, so that had to have been a factor.

Merlin thanked him, embracing his cousin, while Arthur looked on with Bran from their table in the main ballroom designated for big celebrations such as this one.

At the party, Merlin spent most of his time speaking with his mother who he hadn’t seen in months. Arthur couldn’t help but compare Merlin’s mother, Melisande, and Bran. The two of them had striking appearances but in different ways.

Melisande, an oak tree dryad, was dressed in what looked like a finely done dress of green leaves. Yet Arthur always wondered if that was an illusion of leaves. Curving thin branches ran the length of her bare arms and a crown of twigs and golden leaves graced her head. Her hair was as dark as Merlin’s – clearly Merlin had inherited that from her as Merlin’s father was fair-haired. Merlin’s mother had green eyes, as green as her dress, and reminded Arthur of the rich green of spring. Facepaint of beautifully painted leaves of gold, silver and green made her face and neck a work of art. 

While he was just human, Bran could almost be mistaken for a ghost. His skin was very pale, literally white, and even his hair was white. His eyes were a tawny-golden colour that startled even the most stoic of people. He was an albino, and even if he had grown up in a human world, he would have stood out. Here in the world of gods and goddesses, his strange appearance wasn’t as big an issue as the fact that he was human in a sea of immortal beings. 

Luckily Bran had Gwydion as his protector and Arthur saw Bran as a brother. Since Arthur had come at the age of seven into this world, it had been inevitable that he would grow close to Bran. 

He remembered Bran had only been five then, and how protective Arthur had felt toward the younger boy. Bran had been small for his age, and looked so vulnerable with his pale almost ethereal looks. Arthur remembered feeling his anxiety ease as he contended with his new strange home. He had soon realized that he wasn’t the only human in this incredible circumstance, and that he had Bran to lean on and vice versa.

Merlin’s dryad friend Mary approached Arthur and Bran, and she offered to dance with Bran.

“I don’t dance very well,” Bran countered weakly.

“Ah come on, Bran. You’ll do fine,” Arthur said to him, urging him to stand.

Mary smiled at Arthur. She pulled Bran up on to the dance floor.

Arthur stood up himself, deciding to get some fresh air outside. He saw Merlin looking toward him, keeping an eye on him as always. Arthur acknowledged Merlin with a nod and a small wave. Then he headed out of the palace as Merlin’s mother introduced her son to some female dryad around Merlin’s age. 

~ * ~

Arthur began to regret the decision to be outside when he noticed a whirling energy storm surrounding Avalon Myst Bridge. The bridge was a main passageway to the southern part of the world of the gods and goddesses. Adonis’ home with his mistresses and children was in that southern region. The god of beauty and desire was a frequent user of Avalon Myst Bridge since he had wanderlust.

“It’s best you get back inside. It’s dangerous on the bridge now,” Adonis warned him. 

He stood in Arthur’s way, purposefully blocking him from stepping on to the bridge as the golden energy storm lashed out at the bridge. The energy formation looked like many whips attacking at random. It was unnerving to see. Arthur feared if he was on the bridge, a whip of energy could grab and entangle him like the arms of an octopus. He would have little hope of escape.

Arthur walked backwards, creating distance between himself and the bridge.

“You should get off the bridge too!” Arthur shouted as the storm kicked up in intensity. 

The noise of the energy storm grew louder so that Arthur could barely hear himself speak.

Fortunately it looked like only he and Adonis were out in this area – most everyone else at Merlin’s birthday celebration or wise enough to not head out here in this chaotic weather.

“What, I’m a veteran dealing with these. I’m fine,” Adonis insisted with bravado. 

Yet he moved off the bridge anyway.

Then the unexpected happened. The lashes of energy didn’t stay confined to their reign over the bridge. A lash of golden energy headed toward Arthur as if he was the intended target, as if the energy had some sort of unsettling intelligence.

Arthur tried to escape the lash of energy threatening to get a hold of him. He wanted to run away, but though his mind was intent on that, his body betrayed him. He felt frozen, stuck as if magic had stuck him to that spot.

“Arthur, move!” Adonis exclaimed. 

Arthur shook his head quickly, feeling scared and probably looking it too by the anxious expression upon Adonis’s face.

Adonis grabbed Arthur, trying to physically move him away from the lash’s path. But it was no use. 

Alarmingly, the energy appeared to be aimed at hurting specifically him, and not Adonis.

This was the first time in his ten years in this world that he’d encountered such a dreadful storm. He had no idea what the energy did to a person. Did they die? Had anyone survived such an assault?

It was too late for him. The whip of energy coiled around him until he was wrapped up in it like a cocoon. The energy hissed at Adonis, forcing the god back and preventing him from aiding Arthur.

Arthur could feel himself being lifted up into the air. Yet then the world stopped for him when he heard Merlin’s stricken exclamation of his name.

“Take me instead!” Merlin cried out as if he were speaking to the energy.

“Fuck no. Merlin, you know what’ll happen,” argued Gwydion who had come with him apparently.

“The energy wants Arthur. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t,” Adonis informed them.

“I don’t care,” Merlin said stubbornly, in answer to Gwydion it seemed.

A few long minutes later that felt like an eternity, Arthur felt the coils of energy loosen around him. He was free. He dropped a few feet, feeling someone catch him before he hit the ground. Adonis.

“Merlin!” Gwydion screamed in such an angry yet very frightened voice. Arthur had never heard Gwydion sound like that before.

He felt scared as a result, knowing that Merlin was now in danger. That he had taken Arthur’s place. But he also felt tired. He was overwhelmed with the last ordeal he ever expected to deal with on Merlin’s birthday of all nights.

“Adonis, what--? Where’s Merlin?” Arthur asked him urgently. He wouldn’t let himself fall asleep until he saw Merlin in front of him alive and well. His weakness as a human frustrated him. He should be more awake, he should be helping, he should be stopping Merlin from acting the fool and saving him. 

Merlin was all right. He had to be. Otherwise Arthur would never forgive himself.

“Merlin is gone,” Adonis said quietly. 

Arthur was grateful for his bluntness. As Adonis walked back toward the palace, he was still carrying him even though Arthur was seventeen, a grown man, and no lightweight. Yet with his godly strength, Adonis appeared to have no issue with carrying Arthur – one arm underneath his shoulders and the other under his knees.

“You’re lying,” Arthur said without conviction.

“I wish I was,” he heard Adonis answer in a sad voice.

Arthur fell into a restless, unhappy sleep.

~ * ~

A somber melancholy descended over the palace as the news of Merlin’s sacrifice spread. 

Of course Merlin’s parents were sad and heartbroken at losing their son. Merlin’s mother couldn’t stay in the world of the gods and goddesses. Arthur heard accounts that she wept every time she came across Avalon Myst Bridge, the site where her son perished. So she soon departed to return to Mystic’s Wood, to her kingdom in the human realm. 

Arthur didn’t know what Merlin’s father, Hephaestion, wished to do with him. He feared the god of magic would exact a heavy punishment for Arthur for being involved – however indirectly – for his son and heir dying. And that the days Arthur had to wait to be summoned by Hephaestion were meant to intentionally unnerve him. He certainly couldn’t resist coming up with the sort of punishments Merlin’s father would have in store for him. 

So Arthur sat in his room that adjoined to Merlin’s bigger chambers. His own room was a modest size – almost half the size of Merlin’s more richly decorated set of rooms. Arthur liked going to sleep at night and knowing Merlin was close by next door. 

Unfortunately now with Merlin gone, Arthur couldn’t bear to go into his rooms and see how empty they were when Merlin should be there. The bed should be unmade, and food laid out to eat at the small dining table. There should be signs that Merlin was still here. All that Arthur had now was the fading smell of Merlin on the bed pillows.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something.

A week after Merlin’s sacrifice, Arthur had a visitor. 

It was Gwydion. His face was downcast, losing Merlin, his cousin, hitting him hard as losing any family would.

“Hi,” he said to Arthur. He sat down across from Arthur at the table Arthur used for writing.

Arthur was glad Gwydion had come as he had grown gloomy. In his journal, he wrote out the things he regretted never having had the chance to say to Merlin. And how guilty he felt for Merlin’s death even if he hadn’t directly caused it. He hated Merlin for saving him. Then Arthur hated _himself_ for hating Merlin. It was a vicious cycle that he found hard to end. Talking to Gwydion would give him a break from ruminating over his own dark thoughts.

“I wish I could have done something to save Merlin,” Arthur said with a sigh. “I didn’t want him to take my place. I would have rather died than let that happen.”

“Then Merlin would have never forgiven himself if you’d died, believe me. No one would have won,” Gwydion told him tiredly. “I tried to free him, but that blasted energy was too strong, too intent on getting someone in its clutches. I don’t hate you, Arthur. Merlin had acted as we’d have expected him to. He loved you, Arthur, as much as I love Bran. He did the right thing to protect you, to save your life. Even if it looks like the wrong thing because now Merlin is gone. I – we – can only accept that he died honourably, selflessly.”

“I shouldn’t have gone outside that night,” Arthur remarked.

“Yeah. I wish that storm never happened,” Gwydion said. He looked carefully at Arthur then. “My uncle wants to see you. And then afterwards, you could have supper with Bran, Mary and me,” he offered to Arthur. 

Arthur eyed him. “You think there will be an afterwards?” He asked.

“Of course. He just wants to talk with you. He doesn’t blame you, and he’s not going to kill you or anything…” Gwydion assured him.

Though Gwydion spoke lightly, Arthur was well aware that his death was a very real possibility. In this world, humans weren’t equal to gods and goddesses. Arthur was a second-class citizen who was lucky enough that he was in the service of the god of magic’s family, a family who respected humans. Most other gods would kill him without a second glance if they believed he had any involvement – direct or indirect -- with the death of a god. 

Despite that, Arthur – and Bran as well he knew – felt proud that he’d been chosen to live amongst immortal beings. It was an honour that gods saw something special in him as a child – an orphan no less -- and gave him the opportunity to live in their awe-inspiring world.

It was due to Gwydion’s paternal grandmother being a human Queen. Merlin and Gwydion’s grandfather, the previous god of magic now retired, had three women bear each of his three children. So Gwydion was really Merlin’s half-cousin as they had different grandmothers. Gwydion’s father, James, had ascended to be a full god when he was a child, so there was no human blood in him now. 

Merlin's grandfather hoped that the emotional bond James had with his mother would inspire understanding and respect of humans as equal individuals. Or at least emphasize the equal treatment of humans. From Merlin, Arthur knew that Merlin's father had a human companion years before his younger brother was even born. But Merlin had told him that his father was particularly reticent about this companion, so Arthur didn't even know his name.

Arthur rarely saw the humans in the service of other gods and goddesses. He’d heard that they had to be submissive and do their best not to raise the ire of the family they served. It wasn’t slavery exactly as all humans were given adequate sustenance, a place to sleep, and holidays; but well…gods like Muirden didn’t make this world a completely welcoming home for humans. 

“That’s a relief,” Arthur voiced to Gwydion’s assurance of no execution hanging over his head.

Gwydion gave him a small smile.

“How’s Bran?”

“He’s practicing his harp. I’ve been miserable company to him the last few days. I feel bad because he’s trying to be supportive, but I well, I can get a bit snappy… It hasn’t been easy. Maybe with time… it’s just Merlin was my cousin and he’s the first family member I’ve lost… and hopefully the last. I hate feeling so sad.”

“I understand how you feel. I don’t know when I’ll ever move on, the pain of the loss hurts so much,” Arthur confided in him. He reached out to grasp Gwydion’s hand in a gesture of support.

Gwydion breathed out. “Shit. I’m really sorry. I know it might not quite compare since you and Merlin were so close.”

“You and Merlin were family. You were bonded by blood. What matters most is that we cared about him whether he was a friend or family. There will still be a hole in our hearts where he once was. Or something like that,” Arthur shrugged, with a crooked grin.

Gwydion smiled at him. “Yeah. Yeah,” he agreed.

~ * ~

Arthur felt anxious as he entered the throne room to meet with Merlin’s father Hephaestion.

“Arthur,” the god of magic acknowledged in a steady voice that revealed little about what he planned to do with Arthur.

Arthur knelt in front of Merlin’s father. “My Lord. I’m sorry.” He apologized to him.

Merlin’s father peered thoughtfully at him. “There’s no need to apologize, Arthur. I know you were a good friend of Merlin’s, and I know that your heart and soul aches for losing him. As sadness weighs on me like a burden for losing my only son.”

“What is it that you wished to see me about?” Arthur inquired, still kneeling, his head down.

“Stand up, Arthur,” directed Hephaestion. “I want you to look at me.”

Arthur did as asked. His blue eyes looked into that of Merlin’s father. He had blue eyes too yet his eyes were like two sparks of blue fire. His entire appearance radiated power from the golden crown to the golden glow of magic surrounding him. Arthur had always felt that Merlin’s father could truly discover the nature of a person’s soul with those piercing fire blue eyes of his.

He stood tall, trying not to fidget in the presence of the current patriarch of the family he served. Merlin’s father was the closest thing to a father Arthur had himself as he’d been orphaned young. He had never known his birth parents – just the lackluster confines of an orphanage before Merlin’s father came to him when he was a seven-year old boy. 

Still, Arthur couldn’t stop being nervous in the god of magic’s presence. Especially now after Merlin’s death. 

“Now, I thought you should know that Merlin is alive.”

“What? How? I don’t understand,” said Arthur in such a rush while his mind was in a whirl. What did Merlin’s father mean?

“Merlin has been reborn in the human realm. The energy storm caused it. He’s nineteen now, I believe, as the storm tossed him back in time by almost two decades.”

“Wait…so he’s human now? Would the same thing have happened to me?”

“Yes. Merlin is living life as a human,” Merlin’s father confirmed. “I cannot say for sure if the storm would have reincarnated you as well. Merlin was a god, so it affected him in this way. I fear in your case the storm would have been too much for your body and you would have died. I think Merlin was aware of that, and he committed an act of bravery to spare you the pain of a tortured death.”

Arthur was stunned to hear that Merlin was a human now just like him. It was a strange idea since he had been so used to Merlin being a god, and he was the human one with Bran being his only human confidante.

“Does anyone else know about Merlin?”

Merlin’s father shook his head. “I wanted you to know first because Merlin sacrificed himself for you, so you deserve to know he is alive. In a different form, yes, but Merlin is alive. I plan to tell the rest of the family after my meeting with you. The trouble is that my son is completely unaware of his past life as a god. He may remember his past life, but I cannot assure you when that will happen or if it will happen.”

“Is it not possible to bring him back here? Transform him back into a god? Merlin’s Uncle James was made into a full god after all.”

“It’s a different situation. Merlin has two human parents now while my brother still could claim the god of magic as his birth father. Making Merlin into a god would be fraught with complications and very likely kill him. It is a delicate state of affairs, Arthur. What I can promise is that you can visit him if you like – maybe take Gwydion and Bran with you.”

“But I have to be careful in what I say to Merlin, right? He’ll see me as a stranger,” Arthur concluded quite unhappily.

While he was beyond grateful that Merlin was alive no matter if he was an amnesiac incarnation essentially, it hurt Arthur to know that he couldn’t just rekindle their relationship the moment he set eyes upon him again.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I wish I could deliver happier news, but the bad comes with the good in this matter.”

“Thank you for telling me about Merlin,” Arthur said to him emphatically.

“Not a problem,” said Hephaestion. “There is also something else I need to discuss with you. You understand you are in a precarious position now, Arthur, without Merlin. Before, with my son’s presence here and the bond you and my son shared, you were protected. Not fully, as the claiming hadn’t occurred, but the level of protection was enough until the claiming would take place.”

“Merlin had told me he’d consider the claiming after his birthday…but then well…”

Merlin’s father nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately the turn of events worked against the both of you. I’ve decided that I should place you under my direct protection.”

Arthur didn’t miss what Merlin’s father was offering. “You want to claim me?” He asked. 

Of course he had wanted Merlin be the one who had ‘claimed’ him. But now that wasn’t possible. And Arthur realistically knew that he couldn’t stay unclaimed in the world of the gods and goddesses forever. Unless he wanted a horrid time of it for the rest of his life from the likes of Muirden.

“Yes, Arthur. I know it’s not an ideal situation for you as you and Merlin were close. You do have the option to live out the rest of your life in the human realm. You can live beside Merlin and have your second chance with him. Yet if you choose to return to the human realm, you cannot return here.”

While Arthur wanted nothing more than to be with Merlin, the prospect of leaving the world he’d called home for over half his life was frightening. How would he cope living in the human realm? The last time he’d been there he was seven, just a child, and now he was seventeen. It would be a big culture shock for him as the world of gods and goddesses was more familiar and comforting to him no matter its imperfections. 

He’d come to the opinion that the human realm was dirty – so many years not being there, Arthur had distanced himself from the world of his birth. He’d have to be crazy to choose the ‘dirty’ human realm over the majesty of the world of the gods and goddesses.

But. _But._ Now the human realm had Merlin. The one person Arthur wanted to be with most in any world. If or when Merlin remembered, he’d understand, right? That Arthur couldn’t take such a big risk, heading back to a world that was now foreign to him. And he’d have to start from scratch with Merlin. What if Merlin didn’t love Arthur in his reincarnated life? What if Merlin already had a lover?

And Arthur didn’t want to leave Bran who was like a brother to him. He had a family here – not one by blood, but the bonds of love and respect were just as strong. 

“I can’t… I can’t leave this world for good.” Arthur admitted, feeling weak at his confession as he said the words. “I’ll still be able to visit Merlin though? If I remained here?”

“Yes of course. What I said before still stands,” Merlin’s father reassured him. “If that is your choice – to stay here, then the claiming must happen. Now.”

“Now?” Arthur uttered, surprised. 

“The sooner, the better, Arthur. You’ll feel better having it done so you don’t have to think about it. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

When Arthur had first learned about the claiming, he had dreaded it because Muirden had told him that the claiming involved humans being taken against their will, raped. That he’d feel pain for days afterwards, and he’d lose his free will, that he’d be permanently submissive to the god claiming him.

Luckily Merlin had given him a less frightening, and thankfully truthful picture of the claiming. The main purpose of the claiming was to be marked by a god. The marking was usually the god’s symbol such as Bran having a red rose down his arm – the rose bloom ending at his wrist – with a magically sentient bluebird perched on the flower’s long green stem. The bluebird was Gwydion’s symbol, showing that Bran had undergone the claiming. The rose was Gwydion’s artistic embellishment as he was wont to do. 

The more troubling aspect of the claiming was one Arthur had come to terms with. In a small way, he would lose a bit of his free will as the claiming god would be able to exercise mind control on him. Essentially if he was commanded to do or not to do something, he had to follow the order. Yet the rest of the time, he could do as he wished. 

If Merlin couldn’t claim him, then Arthur thought it wouldn’t be so bad to be under the authority of Merlin’s father. Anyone from Merlin’s family would be better than a god like Muirden. He knew from Bran that Gwydion rarely evoked the mind control he had on Bran. Though that might have been in large part due to Muirden raping Bran last year. That had understandably left Gwydion treating Bran carefully.

“Take off your shirt please, Arthur,” Merlin’s father told him. 

Arthur did so, concluding the mark – the lynx as was the symbol of Merlin’s father – would be placed on his chest.

Merlin’s father stood up from his throne, and he walked toward Arthur. 

Arthur had his head down again yet Merlin’s father put a finger under his chin so he’d look at him.

“I’m doing this to help you,” Merlin’s father told him.

“I know, My Lord. I understand. Thank you,” said Arthur, trying to keep calm. This was nothing. He’d been wanting the claiming to happen for a while now.

But maybe the fact it wasn’t Merlin standing across from him was what made this moment sadder than he thought it would be. Arthur missed Merlin so much. He couldn’t deny it.

Merlin’s father placed his open hand over the right side of Arthur’s upper chest.

A sensation not unlike the wind breezing by overcame him. 

When Merlin’s father removed his hand, a beige-white lynx half the size of Arthur’s hand was now present on his previously bare chest. The lynx was alive too as Gwydion’s bluebird was on Bran. The lynx walked in a straight line across Arthur’s chest, and then went up to his neck, the image of the lynx curved around the side of his neck. 

Arthur hadn’t anticipated Merlin’s father to embrace him afterwards. He let him, the weight of what just happened still not quite settling in.

“You are like a son to me,” Merlin’s father told him, his words firm and true.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had known before that Merlin’s father viewed him as a part of the family, but at this moment, at this claiming, the words held a greater significance.

So he said the only thing he could say. The truth. “You’re the only father I’ve ever known,” said Arthur in a near whisper.

Merlin’s father gave him a warm smile, and he clapped Arthur on the shoulder before letting him go.

After he put his shirt back on, Arthur went, forcing himself not to cry.

 _“I wish you were here, Merlin,”_ he thought desperately. _“Gods, I wish… I wish I’d been braver so that I could live with you in the human realm.”_

~ * ~

Muirden never failed to anger Arthur. Like a stalker, he was there to confront Arthur once he’d exited the throne room.

“So you’re a god’s bitch now. Maybe you’ll finally learn some manners,” Muirden said in a snide tone, grinning at him.

“I’m not wasting my time talking to you,” Arthur said firmly, not even looking at Muirden.  
He walked past him. Unfortunately Muirden planted himself right in front of him, halting Arthur’s movement. Muirden clapped his hand down on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur ripped the hand off his shoulder and shoved past him.

Muirden pushed him to the floor, then positioned himself on top of Arthur. He grabbed Arthur’s hands, immobilizing them so that Arthur couldn’t use them to fight. Arthur didn’t know what to do as he felt Muirden’s full godly strength pressing down on him. So he swore at Muirden.

“Fuck you,” Arthur told him, his voice full of pure hate.

“Now, now there’s no need to be so unpleasant,” said Muirden all too casually. “You do realize that as time passes, more and more will be asked of you by your god… just a friendly warning,” he said, leering down at Arthur, pointedly looking at his crotch. 

Arthur grew restless, trying to shift position, get Muirden off him. The god wouldn’t dare do the same thing to Arthur that he had done to Bran. Not if he wanted to potentially lose another eye. “You better watch yourself,” said Muirden. His hand hovered just below Arthur’s waist.

“You watch yourself, or wait, you can’t do that too well with only one eye,” Arthur snarked back, trying to sound braver than he felt. “I should get Gwydion to remove your other eye. We can’t leave a job half-done, now can we?” He shot back with a hollow grin.

Muirden glared at him.

“Muirden!” Arthur heard Merlin’s father exclaim in outrage. “Let Arthur go. These altercations with Arthur will cease. Understood?”

Muirden removed himself from Arthur, standing up. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes, Sir, I understand. I will leave him alone. I know he’s yours to do with as you please,” Muirden said. 

Arthur didn’t miss that the last statement was a veiled attack on him. Muirden was a complete bastard.

Merlin’s father frowned, probably seeing through that statement as well. “I’m sure you have other things to do, Muirden.”

Muirden nodded, and left them.

“Are you all right, Arthur?” Merlin’s father asked him.

“Yes I’m fine,” Arthur said. “Thank you for stopping him. I just hope Muirden won’t bother me anymore, but I imagine it’d be hard for him to do.”

“He should be going home soon. You won’t have to deal with him, I promise you,” Merlin’s father assured him. “Now, I wanted to tell you that your new bed quarters will be the ones adjoining my room. Since Merlin is no longer here, his rooms unfortunately lack the protection they once had as a result of his presence. Within a week’s time, I trust you to make the move. I know it will be hard for you, but I want you to be safe when you’re asleep and your senses are not awake and alert.”

“I understand,” Arthur said. 

Yet when he left his old room for good, Arthur knew that meant he had to finally accept that Merlin was really gone. That there was a very likely chance Merlin would never return to being a god. Merlin would live his human life with no inkling of the extraordinary life he once had, of the love Arthur had for him.

 

~ * ~

That night after his supper with Bran, Gwydion, and Mary; Arthur had an uneasy sleep.

His worst imagining came to light in his nightmare.

Muirden had claimed him, and he had placed a dark collar around Arthur’s neck like Arthur was an animal to be controlled. And Muirden had commanded him to never wear any clothes within his rooms. Arthur was tied to the bed, arms and legs immobilized. His cock was restrained, so he couldn’t come until Muirden ordered him to.

Alone, he lay there for hours wanting to scream and cry at the pain of being denied release. Arthur had to submit to Muirden, calling him Master always, and he was commanded to feel aroused whenever Muirden called him a slut or whore as if Arthur enjoyed being called those horrible names.

Even worse, Muirden had other gods who looked unfamiliar to Arthur – the dream making them fuzzy silhouetted non-beings – come in to fuck Arthur while Muirden watched. 

Afterwards, Arthur felt he’d have preferred to be whipped than go through the ordeal again.

Arthur was grateful when the nightmare ended.

Now he saw Merlin again, but it was Merlin as he last remembered him. Merlin was a god again, looking like a righteous avenging angel, as he fought Muirden on a white Pegasus. Muirden was on a Pegasus too, and their swords clashed in the full heat of battle. Arthur watched the fight from his place on the ground.

Relief swept through Arthur when Merlin struck the death blow and made a clean swipe at Muirden’s neck, decapitating the other god.

Muirden’s head fell with a dull thud to the ground. His black Pegasus flew away, the rest of Muirden’s body falling off the horse. 

Merlin came down on his winged steed. After he climbed off the Pegasus, he greeted Arthur. 

Arthur knelt before Merlin. “My Lord,” he addressed Merlin formally.

Merlin shook his head, asking Arthur to stand. “My Love,” he said to Arthur solemnly. He snogged Arthur, his hands on his cheeks, their tongues intertwined.

Soon, they somehow ended up on the ground, Arthur on top of Merlin, and as Merlin grinned up at him, Arthur thought this was the moment. 

He couldn’t imagine feeling happier than he felt then.

Arthur woke up; an ache in his heart knowing that he may never have that with Merlin in reality. The one thing he truly wanted. 

~ * ~

“Arthur, Arthur!” Bran said excitedly as he entered his room.

Arthur looked up. Bran was waving around a big manila envelope.

“Hey Bran. What’s that?” Arthur asked.

He was in the midst of reading through rather haphazard notes on a magic analysis and reorganizing them into a cleaner outline on another sheet. His careful penmanship insured the new notes could be easily legible. 

Since he was a child in this world, Arthur had been taught to have very neat penmanship – almost as perfect as the words being written out by magic – and he prided himself on that. After the claiming, he was expected to do tasks like this for Merlin’s father. The work helped him in keeping his mind off Merlin, which he was grateful for.

“Gwydion got tickets to different events at the 2100 London Summer Olympics,” Bran explained to him. “That’s in a few months’ time.”

Arthur set his papers aside and raised his brow at Bran. “The Olympics? That’s an athletic competition in the human realm, right?” He asked.

He had to admit after being so long removed from the human realm, commonly known things that all humans knew about were forgotten by him. After all there were no Olympics in the world of the gods and goddesses. 

Bran nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. I was the same like you when Gwydion first told me about it. I was just a baby when I was taken away from the human realm so the word, ‘Olympics’ was gibberish to me.” He shrugged.

“Ha, yeah, I bet. It feels that way to me too… how does Gwydion know about it? Oh wait, he makes visits to the human realm every so often.”

“I think Gwydion’s father told him about the Olympics. Though Gwydion hasn’t been to an Olympics, his father has. I suppose it all makes sense since Gwydion’s father oversees all the humans who possess magic. You have to be knowledgeable about human things because of that.”

“Yet here we are, humans, seeing the word ‘Olympics’ and thinking it’s a nonsense word. Cheers,” Arthur said dryly.

Bran smiled at him, chuckling. “Well anyway, there are tickets here for me, you, Gwydion and Adonis. Not sure if Adonis is more interested in seeing the men in Speedos or the women in bikinis.”

Arthur laughed out loud then. “Oh now I just have to go just to see how Adonis takes it all in. I haven’t been to the human realm since I was seven, so it’s about time I visit.”

“And I think you’ll like going to see some of the swim races,” Bran said with a nod. 

“Why is that?” Arthur asked him.

“Because there’s a British swimmer named Merlin who’s a defending Olympic gold medalist in the 100 meter butterfly and 100 meter freestyle. Imagine that, he won two gold medals at only fifteen. Now he’s competing again four years later in quite a few events. Gwydion thinks he’ll get a lot more gold medals this time around…”

“Merlin? You mean, our Merlin? Seriously? He’s an Olympic swimmer?” Arthur said in disbelief.

Bran nodded. “He may be human now, but he might still have some godly magic within him. Maybe it made him into a talented swimmer as a result. Fate works in funny ways.”

“There’s nothing that’ll stop me from going to the Olympics now. Shit. This is brilliant,” Arthur said, excitement building within him. He opened up the envelope to see the tickets inside.

He wasn’t sure he’d be actually able to meet with Merlin during his time at the Olympics, but just seeing him even from afar was good enough for now. Arthur wasn’t sure he was ready to handle talking to Merlin privately. What would he even say without looking like an idiot?

~ * ~

A chance for Arthur to see Merlin one-on-one did come before the Olympics. Gwydion offered Arthur to come with him during his visit to Stonehenge in the human realm.

“I don’t know where Merlin lives,” Arthur pointed out.

Gwydion took out a piece of paper, grinning mischievously. “I couldn’t help it. It was too easy. I got Merlin’s flat address. I can take you directly to his front door, so you don’t have to navigate the streets.”

“Hm yeah, my navigation of the human realm is admittedly rusty,” Arthur remarked with a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks, Gwydion. If you had his address, did you visit him yourself?”

Gwydion shook his head. “I thought seeing me would unnerve him a bit. Since I resemble him so much that we could almost be twins except for the fact I’m a few years younger than him. But I know you’d like to see him again, so I want to give you that opportunity.”

Arthur understood. Gwydion did look startlingly like Merlin. While yes, the two were cousins, the uncanny resemblance was still jarring and a bit odd. Arthur remembered joking with Merlin that Gwydion was his evil twin due to Gwydion’s more fiery temper. While Merlin had been more even-tempered, Gwydion was more passionate and impulsive. Honestly Arthur was surprised Gwydion’s hair wasn’t a flaming red to match his fiery nature. But still, despite all the teasing, Gwydion had a good heart underneath. Gwydion’s friendship with Bran helped greatly in making him more patient and a better person overall. 

“Thanks, Gwydion. I won’t let this chance go…it’s time I talk to him even if he’ll see him as a stranger. I don’t want to hold off on seeing him for too long,” Arthur said, reasoning it out in his head.

So he could see Merlin now, potentially make a fool of himself, and then see Merlin race in the Olympics in a few months.

That right there was a winning strategy.

~ * ~

Arthur stood at the door to Merlin’s flat feeling like his feet were literally stuck to the floor. 

Gwydion had left him a few minutes ago with a mobile phone to call him if he needed to. Arthur barely knew how to use the mobile as it was human technology, the irony clear to him. Gwydion had wished him good luck, but Arthur felt he needed a lot more than that to get himself to knock on Merlin’s door. 

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and he pulled himself together. Just knock on the door. It’s easy. Say hello, and try not to act like Merlin was an old friend when to Merlin, Arthur was just a stranger now. Hopefully Merlin wouldn’t think Arthur was a stalker or a superfan – a possibility if he was a big-time Olympic swimmer.

Okay, maybe he really wasn’t ready for this. 

Before he could retreat and attempt a call on his mobile, the door of Merlin’s flat opened. 

To Arthur’s horror, Muirden was standing in front of him.

Arthur tried to look behind Muirden, wondering if Merlin was inside and dreading finding Merlin with a bloodied head or something. Merlin was only human now, and he was left vulnerable to Muirden’s overpowering strength. A human was no match for a god. Muirden had made sure to drill that into Arthur for years to Arthur’s annoyance.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Arthur demanded, feeling powerful than he otherwise would have felt. He had the full protection of Merlin’s father due to the claiming, and Muirden would have to heed the reprimand Merlin’s father had given him. 

And if all that wasn’t enough, Gwydion was a call away and he could magically travel here in a split-second to put the fear of all the gods in Muirden. And remove his remaining eye too.

“Well hello little human,” Muirden drawled condescendingly.

“I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead here in the human realm,” Arthur hissed. “Where’s Merlin?”

“Yes well, that’s why I’m here. I couldn’t resist when I heard your precious Merlin had fallen. And it’s so funny seeing him without a clue about who I am and what he’d given up saving an idiot human like you. There’s one less god in the world of the gods and goddesses thanks to you. You must feel so proud.”

“What did you do to Merlin?” Arthur demanded, his fear of Muirden killing Merlin almost overwhelming him.

He pressed a few buttons on his mobile, getting to the phonebook and he went to Gwydion’s name. He clicked to call, hoping he was following Gwydion’s instructions properly.

Muirden frowned at him, noticing what he was doing with the mobile. “Can’t handle this yourself, Arthur? Figures.”

The mobile started ringing, waiting for Gwydion to pick up. 

Muirden jumped him then, slamming Arthur against the corridor and forcing him to release his grip on the mobile. But it was too late. He had made the call to Gwydion. Even if he hadn’t said a word into the phone, Gwydion would know something was wrong and come.

“You wait. One day I’ll do the same thing that I did to Bran to you. It will be when you least expect.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Bran. You don’t deserve to even speak his name much less look him in the eye,” Arthur said fiercely. “You know you’ll be in even bigger trouble if you rape another claimed human. But maybe you are stupider than you look.”

Arthur pushed Muirden off of him with all the strength he had. 

He knew Gwydion had come when Muirden was tossed across the corridor.

“You are just a fucking pest, aren’t you?” Gwydion growled. 

He forced Muirden into Merlin’s flat. Arthur followed them inside, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t see Merlin anywhere in the main room.

“What have you done to my cousin?” Gwydion demanded in an unyielding voice. He held Muirden immobile with his magic. 

“Why don’t you find out yourself?” Muirden said cheekily. “And he’s not your cousin anymore.”

“Merlin’s still family to me. I don’t care what he is now, that won’t change. But of course the concept of loyalty is foreign to you, Muirden. Now, where is Merlin?” He demanded yet again.

Arthur found Merlin in his bedroom. His worst fear came true. Merlin was sitting slumped beside the bed, unconscious, with a bloodied head wound – blood streamed down his cheek and his head lolled to the side. His right arm was stretched out on the bed, a mobile covered with blood in his hand. Upon closer inspection, Arthur found Merlin’s hand had been sliced open and blood was slowly welling up from the open wound. But the most important discovery was that Merlin was still alive to Arthur’s great relief. His chest still rose and fell, so he was breathing albeit weakly. 

“Gwydion!” Arthur called him. “I found him!”

Gwydion immediately came into the room. “Oh no. No. Merlin.” He said in shock. 

“Is Muirden still--?” Arthur wondered. He didn’t want Muirden anywhere near Merlin.

“He left,” Gwydion said curtly. He waved his hand, now glowing golden with his magic, over Merlin’s whole body. Merlin’s head wound gradually healed, but it was a slow process that still left some blood caked into his hair. 

“If a human had done this to him, I could easily heal him,” Gwydion explained in frustration. “But Muirden’s a god. It looks like he put some blocks to prevent Merlin from being quickly healed in the normal magical way. Damn Muirden. I hate him.”

“There’s the human hospital?” Arthur suggested. 

He brushed a stray lock of Merlin’s hair aside affectionately. The one thing he wanted now was for Merlin to be all right.

Gwydion looked affronted. “A human hospital over a god? No. I can help my cousin even if it’ll take a little longer.”

“Then what should we do?” Arthur asked him.

“I know where to take him,” Gwydion told him. “There’s a protected place underneath Stonehenge. Merlin will be safest there as I heal him.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay.” 

He kissed Merlin on the brow, and reassured him in a whisper, “We’ll help you, Merlin. I promise you, you’ll be all right. Muirden won’t hurt you again. I will make sure of that.”

Arthur would have liked to think that Merlin had heard him by the twitch of his fingers. Arthur grasped his hand as Gwydion transported all of them to Stonehenge.

Merlin might have fallen from his high place as a god, but Arthur found him again and hope sprung up in him that their close bond would be rekindled.

The two of them were only human now, and maybe that was a good thing. Out of that tragic day came a bright new beginning.

~ * ~

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU! one-shot that references names, concepts, and familial relationships from “The Wolf and The Phoenix” and its sequel “The Raven Knife.” 
> 
> If anyone is feeling a bit of déjà vu, that’s why. I didn’t put this note at the beginning because I didn’t want to confuse anyone since this AU has a fundamentally different set-up than the other two stories. I couldn’t resist writing out this AU and exploring the issues Arthur has to deal with in an extraordinary situation.


End file.
